


Don't Send Me Away

by Cup_aTea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Historical Inaccuracies, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Mandatory Fun Day, Queer historical inaccuracies, Scotland, kilted Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cup_aTea/pseuds/Cup_aTea
Summary: “Clint, is it true?”Clint, a stable hand of no importance, has been promised to a distant Laird by his father.  It doesn't matter that the man is twice is age, and only wants Clint to warm his bed--Clint's father has already accepted his suit and his purse, so the matter is settled.Or so it was until Bucky Barnes had something say about it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 9
Kudos: 164
Collections: Mandatory Fun Day





	Don't Send Me Away

**Author's Note:**

> Late prompt fill for the Mandatory Fun Day [MarriageAU Prompt ](https://mandatoryfunday.tumblr.com/post/189265673701/you-either-do-or-you-dont#notes) (and a side fill for the [kilted Bucky](https://mandatoryfunday.tumblr.com/post/187896981696/okay-winterhawklings-this-week-lets-think-bucky#notes) prompt back in the summer). I had been watching a little bit of Outlander when the MarriageAU prompt came out and this is where my mind went. It's been a busy season though, so it took a little time to put it together.

“Clint, is it true?”

Clint kept his gaze on the brown mare in front of him, brushing her coat and ignoring Bucky coming up behind him. 

“Clint?” Bucky said again in that soft tone he reserved for Clint.

Clint’s hand stilled on the brush.

“It’s true,” he said. “My father is sending me to wed Laird Thomson two days from now.”

“Surely he can’t do that,” Bucky said.

“Laird Thomson offered him a generous purse as a wedding gift,” Clint said. The mare nickered, and he started brushing her again. “I guess he saw me last summer when he was here and liked the look of me. He already has an heir and now that his wife has died, he wants a companion.”

“That doesn’t mean it has to be you. He’s nearly old enough to be your father,” Bucky said.

Clint looked at him. Bucky’s light blue eyes were stormier than usual.

“I’m a stablehand, Bucky, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just say no to a laird. And my father and Barney have probably already spent the money on drink.”

Bucky’s expression was stony. Clint sighed.

“What other choice do I have? I’m not going to run away. I’ve spent enough nights sleeping rough with nothing to eat. I’m not going back to that. At least if I marry him, I’ll have square meals everyday and I won’t have to worry about money,” Clint said. He couldn’t look at Bucky as he said it, and he had to swallow hard after the last sentence.

Bucky was quiet for a long while before he spoke.

“What if…what if you married me instead?”

Clint’s hand faltered and he stared at Bucky in shock.

“What?” 

“If we did it soon, your father could’na stop it and he couldn’t marry you to someone else. I know it’s a big step, and more serious than we’ve ever pretended to be. I know I’m not exactly a catch as far as husband’s go,” Bucky said, shrugging his left shoulder where his arm ended below the shoulder. Clint knew exactly how many scars covered the skin there under his tartan, had felt them with his fingers and covered them with his lips.

“That’s horse manure,” Clint said, dropping the brush into the grooming bucket. “You are a catch, Bucky Barnes. You’re a war hero, and Steve Rogers’ right hand man. Anyone would be lucky to have you. It’s me who’s no catch. I’m just a mangy stableboy whose family got taken in by the laird out of pity. Not a handsome clansman like you.”

Bucky’s mouth was quirked up on one side like he wanted to smile. 

“I don’t think anyone would call you mangy,” he said, running a hand along Clint’s shoulder above his shirt. Clint held back a shiver.

“Not in the last few years anyway,” he joked. 

“I am serious though, Clint. I will marry you if you wish,” Bucky said.

“Just to save me from the clutches of Laird Thomson?” Clint said. It came out in a whisper.

“Not just for that,” Bucky said. His hand traced Clint’s jaw. “I know that there is nothing serious or promised between us. But you should know… I think I’m falling in love with you. It wouldn’t be all a charade for me.”

Bucky had pressed closer and closer until they were backed up against the stable wall. Clint couldn’t look away from his face. 

“It wouldn’t be a charade for me either,” he said. 

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in and kissed Clint. Clint kissed him back, feeling weak in the knees, and he clung to Bucky’s shoulders for balance.

A thought occurred to him and he broke the kiss.

“I can’t give you children,” he said, stating the obvious. “Are you sure—”

“I don’t want children,” Bucky said. “I decided that a long time ago. Any children I have would be a rival to Steve’s and he’s the rightful heir to lairdship. I don’t want any part of that. I think he and Peggy will produce plenty of children to dote on.”

Clint snickered.

“And you?” Bucky asked, tilting Clint’s chin with a finger. “Do you want them?”

“No, I…” Clint stopped, not wanting to share all his thoughts as images of his father flashed through his head. “I don’t.”

“Tell me if it changes,” Bucky said leaning in to kiss his neck. “I know this is a desperate measure.”

“Not desperate so much as unhoped for,” Clint said. He felt his eyes tearing up. “I never thought a stableboy had much chance with one of the Rogers’ cousins. I figured I’d be a bit of fun until the right lady came along. That’s why I never…”

“Never what, dearheart?” 

“That’s why I never asked for more,” Clint said hoarsely.

“We’re a pair of fools,” Bucky said. “Clint, I would give you the moon and the star if you asked for them.”

His right arm tucked under Clint’s thighs and hoisted him against the wall so that Clint had to wrap his legs around Bucky’s waist. The move made Clint even taller, but he didn’t care about the crick in his neck as he leant down and kissed Bucky.

“God, Clint, the thought of you marrying that man,” Bucky growled when they stopped for breath. “I nearly broke Steve’s nose when he told me.”

“I wouldn’t like it,” Clint said. “And I don’t think Thomson wanted me for anything more than to warm his bed. But when I thought I could never have what I wanted, it seemed like there was no point in fighting it.”

He tucked Bucky’s hair behind his ear, staring at his face in wonder. He wanted to kiss every inch of it. “You’re going to be my husband.”

“And you’re going to be mine,” Bucky said.

They kissed again until they heard someone outside.

“Soon,” Bucky said. “Tonight if I can manage it. Keep going about your work and don’t say a word to your father or brother.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”

“I’ll see you soon, dearheart.”

Clint felt his face heat. Bucky had never used such words with him before. He had certainly wished and hoped that Bucky felt even half of what he did, but he had never known. Bucky was always very quiet about his feelings, not wanting to say too much. Clint’s heart felt like it could burst knowing that Bucky wanted to marry him not out of obligation, but because he cared for Clint.

He heard Barney stumble into the stables, and Clint hastened to go back to grooming the mare. He would do his best to bide his time until he heard from Bucky again.

~*~

It was late when Clint heard a tap on the door. He opened it to find Sam Wilson on the other side, dressed with his tartan wrapped formally. Clint looked over his shoulder, making sure that his brother and father were asleep in their cups, and slipped out the door to join his friend.

He followed Sam to the keep and was surprised when Sam led him to Thor’s chambers. 

“Thought you might want to look a little nicer on your wedding day. Thor’s the closest one to your size and he agreed to lend you some clothes,” Sam said.

There was a clean white shirt laid out on the bed, finer than any Clint had ever owned, and a pair of breaches with a broad belt. Clint stripped quickly and pulled on the fresh clothes.

“Soon enough you’ll have your own tartan as Bucky’s husband,” Sam said, straightening his collar.

Clint’s fingers faltered on a button.

“What’s the matter, Barton, nothing to say?” Sam asked.

“I just can’t believe I’m about to marry Bucky,” Clint said.

Sam tutted at him. “About time if you ask me. I thought you two would never get yourselves sorted out.”

“Really?” Clint asked.

Sam gave him a smile. “Really. Bucky’s mad about you; Steve talks about it often enough. And anyone with eyes can see the way you look at him. I’m just sorry it took this to get you two to talk about it.”

“Aye,” Clint said, examining his reflection in the mirror. “My da’s going to be angry when he finds out.”

“Let Rogers deal with him,” Sam said. He clapped Clint on the shoulder. “Let’s go get you married.”

Sam led him to a chamber in the Laird’s wing. It was lit by candles and filled with the small group of friends he and Bucky shared. Steve was standing near Bucky, and Natasha stood a step behind him, looking smug. Bucky was standing at the front by a priest. He had neatened up as well. He was in a clean white shirt and jacket, and his tartan was pleated and pinned perfectly in place. His jaw was clean-shaven, and Clint wanted to reach out and touch the soft skin there. 

Clint’s stomach fluttered with nerves as he stepped forward to stand beside Bucky and the priest. He was so nervous he barely heard the priest’s words. Instead he focused on Bucky, who was making his determined face. When he saw Clint looking, he gave that little smile that he gave to no one else.

Clint spoke as he was directed, and he held out his hand when Steve asked. Steve bound their hands together and poured wax from a candle to seal the knot as he said the final words. He was smiling broadly at them both, but Clint only had eyes for Bucky. Bucky was looking back at him, his eyes clear and bright.

“You may kiss your husband,” Clint heard Steve say. 

Bucky kissed him, a quick brush of lips that made their friends cheer.

“My husband,” Bucky said lowly, and Clint felt his cheeks heat. 

“You’re stuck with me now,” Clint said.

“Good,” Bucky said, and kissed him again.

~*~

The next morning a hung-over Harold Barton was ushered into the Laird’s dining chamber after making a fuss in the kitchens.

“What is all this about?” the Laird asked as Harold was stood in front of his table.

“Says he’s lookin’ for his son,” the guard said.

“Clint was supposed to be in the stables at sun up,” Harold said. “But I can’t find that good for nothin’ anywhere. He didn’t even start the fire this morning.”

The Laird looked over at his son Steven.

Steve shrugged and dug into his eggs. “I think Clint’s still in bed with his husband.” 

“His husband?” Harold Barton frowned, and then his eyes went wide. “Laird Thomson’s here? They’ve already wed?”

“No,” said the Laird. “He wed my nephew Bucky Barnes last night.”

Harold’s face went pale then dark red. “That little bastard. He had no right!”

“Bucky asked him, and he consented willingly,” Steve said with a shrug, but his eyes were intent on Barton’s face. 

“He is promised to Laird Thomson! I’ve already spent the money. And I have debts,” Harold shouted.

“Your debts are your own and you should have waited till your son was wed till you spent the money,” the Laird said. He gestured to the guard to take Barton out of the chamber. “You shall have to find another way to pay them. Clint will work in the stables as he and his husband see fit, but I doubt he’ll grace your doorway again.”

Harold’s face purpled as two of the guard dragged him out.

Up in Bucky’s room overlooking the courtyard, Clint was distracted from tracing patterns on Bucky’s chest by his father’s voice drifting through the open window. He turned to look almost involuntarily but Bucky’s arm tightened around his waist. 

“Easy now,” Bucky said. “Let the Laird deal with him. He’s made his own bed and he must lie in it.”

“Just as I must lie in mine?” Clint said, looking back down at him.

“Aye,” Bucky said. “Though I hope you find yours more pleasant than he will.”

“I think I shall,” Clint said, bending down to press his lips to Bucky’s bare chest. 

“No more talk of family and Lairds. This is our first morning together as husbands, and I don’t intend to let you out of this bed until the noontime meal,” Bucky said, rolling them so that he was looking down at Clint.

“I like the sound of that,” Clint said, sprawling beneath him.

“I thought you might,” Bucky said, nipping at his neck. “Husband.”

Clint whimpered, and his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, and his arms wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders. And as Bucky set about reminding him how much he was loved, Clint thought that for the first time in a long time he was home.


End file.
